Hole In One
by ginasfs07
Summary: AU Santana is an up and coming professional golfer, pursuing her career in Miami. Brittany is a student living in the city and gets a part time job as a caddy at the country club where Santana plays.
1. Chapter 1

I look up at the tall, imposing building in front of me and suddenly feel nervous about going in. This place looks so fancy. Shiny sports cars are lined up beside each other in the parking lot and tall, cascading fountains stand on the lawn on either side of me. I take a deep breath and walk up to the huge doors, only to find an intercom and keypad. Looks like I need a code to get in…

I spy a small button at the bottom labelled "visitors." I guess that's me. I press it and wait for a few seconds, glancing behind me at the gardener trimming the already-perfect hedges.

"Welcome to Fairview Country Club, how may I help you?" A young, female voice sounds through the intercom.

I lean forward and speak.

"Um, hi, my name's Brittany Pierce, I'm here for a job interview." There's a period of silence in which I glance down at my outfit and wonder if I should have dressed smarter.

"Come right in, Miss Pierce." There's a click and a buzzing noise as the door releases and I enter the building.

I walk through a carpeted corridor with shining plaques on the walls, engraved with countless names. I turn the corner at the end and find myself in a large foyer area with curved staircases leading up on the right and left.

I see a receptionist sitting at a desk between the staircases and realize this must have been the woman to greet me. She's small with short red hair and she looks up from her computer as I approach.

"Good afternoon, Miss Pierce. If you just walk down that corridor then you want the third door on the right. You'll be meeting with the Director." She gestures off to her left and I nod, thanking her and walking down the corridor. When I reach the right door I glance down and see a plaque that reads "Carl Howell – Director of Golf".

I knock lightly and wait a moment before I hear a "come in" from the other side. I step into the office and the man behind the desk stands and holds out his hand.

"You must be Brittany Pierce. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Carl Howell and I am the Director of Golf here at Fairview."

"Pleased to meet you," I shake his hand and take a seat. I think this is the nicest office I've ever sat in. There are tall bookcases covering two of the walls and on the other there's a huge window looking out onto the golf course. The Director is dressed in an expensive-looking suit and a glass of what looks like Scotch sits on his desk in front of him.

He starts to talk about how the club is looking for some young people to work part-time as caddies for the members who don't wish to use the golf carts, all of which I already know from the job advert. He then goes on to tell me all about the responsibilities I'll have, the dress code and my wages and I get the feeling that he's just going to hire me without asking me any questions.

I nod along in understanding and tell him I can work evenings and weekends when he asks me about my availability. Eventually he stands again and moves to the door, holding it open.

"I think that's all the information you need for now. If you want to come with me I can show you around the facilities."

"Thanks." I follow him into the corridor and he leads us back the way I came.

"Here at Fairview we really pride ourselves on the number of outstanding golfers among us." He gestures to the trophies contained in the cabinets along the walls. "Several of our members play professionally, and many of our junior players are on their way to doing so."

I smile and nod as if extremely impressed and follow him up one of the staircases in the foyer. He shows me the restaurant and bar upstairs, which has a balcony looking out over the first hole of the course. Several stuffy-looking old men sit around outside, smoking and drinking huge glasses of beer. The women I imagine to be their wives sit in groups, sipping cocktails and gossiping with one another.

The Director then leads me downstairs and shows me where the women's changing rooms are, handing me a key for my new locker.

He thanks me once again and tells me to be here on Thursday for my first shift, before disappearing back to his office. I head out, thanking the receptionist as I pass her and exit the building.

Well. That was easy. I came here expecting a gruelling interview but I barely had to say anything and I'm employed. I smile to myself and take out my phone. I send a text to Joe.

_"Was totally easy…they pretty much hired me on the spot. You'll be fine!"_

I don't live too far away so I decide to walk home. I hate getting the bus around here anyway; it's always so busy and cramped. Other than that I like this place. I just moved here a few months ago for college and at first I thought a big city like Miami would overwhelm me after growing up in the country. But I got used to it quick enough. There are always so many interesting people to talk to and exciting new places to go.

When I get home I find Mercedes and Tina lounging around in the living room.

"Hey girl," Mercedes calls to me from the couch. "How'd it go?"

"It was good," I reply, tossing my keys into the dish beside the front door and cringing at the loud clanging sound they make. "Turns out it wasn't really an interview…more of a welcome session."

Tina smiles at me as I enter the living room. "That's cool. So when do you start?"

I kick off my shoes and join them, collapsing beside Mercedes into the soft red couch. "On Thursday. I told them I had to work around school during the week and they were cool with that. Ugh...it is so hot today," I groan, suffering in my black dress pants that I chose to wear for the interview. I pause. "I'm gonna go change," I say, getting up almost immediately after sitting down.

As I head into my room I see I have a text from Sam. I smile and open it.

_"Hey, how was your interview? :) Wanna come over later?"_

I reply,_ "Sure, see you in a couple hours,"_ and throw my phone on my bed while I change. I've been dating Sam for the past couple of years – we got together just after high school after dancing around each other for most of senior year. We're the same age but he came out here for college straight away, while I took a couple years out to work and save up some money. It's nice not having to do long distance any more; it feels like we are in a proper relationship now and I can go and see him whenever I want and stuff.

I have some work to do to finish up an assignment, so I get started on that. I'm taking a whole bunch of classes this year and I'm not really sure what I want to end up doing. Sam says I don't have to decide just yet. I like science though. The assignment I'm working on is for an introductory physics course I'm taking, and sure; it's difficult, but not impossible. I have a few good friends in that class and we help each other out when we can, so I'm doing pretty well so far.

About an hour later I'm happy with my work, so I stand and get ready to leave. On my way out the door I call to Mercedes and Tina. "I'm going to Sam's, so I'll get dinner with him. See you guys later!"

I take out my phone again and send off a quick text to Sam.

_"On my way :)"_

* * *

As I'm coming out of the women's locker room I spy Joe walking along the corridor towards me and wave.

"Hi Joe, I didn't know you were working today." Joe is a good friend of mine at college, from Spanish class. When I told him about the caddy job at the country club he applied with me and we both ended up being hired. He said he liked the sound of a job where he could be outside for hours.

"Yeah, I'm doing a round with a bunch of rich businessmen who are visiting from up the coast. They're teeing off in twenty minutes."

"Hey, me too!" I smile. "We'll be working together."

I've had a few shifts since starting at the club and I like it alright so far. It mostly just involves carrying a bag on my back and marking a score card for middle aged men who barely acknowledge you other than to ask for a putter. I don't mind though, the weather's usually nice enough and I can just zone out and enjoy the fresh air. I make good money for what I'm doing and I usually get a tip as well.

Joe and I head out to the area in front of the club house to wait for the players to show up. Eventually they do; three burly middle aged men, dressed similarly in polo shirts tucked tightly into their pants, laughing loudly to one another.

"You the caddies?" one of them asks us loudly as he approaches. I step forward and nod. "Excellent. I'm Richard. You can carry my bag, sweetheart." He winks at me and squeezes my shoulder as he passes. Gross.

By the time we finish the sixth hole I kind of want the round to be over. These men are super obnoxious and are taking forever to play the course. "That was a four, sweetheart," the guy named Richard says to me as he hands me his putter. It was definitely at least a six, but I write down a four in his score card anyway.

"Hey, Richard, check it out," one of his buddies says as he tees up for the next hole. "It's Santana Lopez."

The seventh hole runs parallel to the ninth due to the layout of the course, and through the small divide of trees between the fairways another group is playing. From what I can see it consists of two young women, one blonde and one dark haired. I assume the dark haired one is Santana – I've heard her name before because she's a well known professional at the club, but I've never seen her.

"Damn," Richard looks over. "She has got to be the finest female player around right now." He smirks. "Check out that rack."

I exchange a look with Joe, rolling my eyes. The creep's probably old enough to be her grandfather. Out of curiosity I look back at the two women. Santana has her back to me at the moment, taking a club out of her bag on the golf cart, and I can't see her face.

As we make our way up the seventh hole they get closer, eventually passing us and I see Santana more closely. Okay, so he wasn't exaggerating about how attractive she is. She's in the middle of saying something to her friend and laughing and I can't help but stare. Holy crap she is gorgeous. I remember Richard's remark and despite myself glance at her chest…and yep, he wasn't lying about that either.

She suddenly looks towards me as if she knows someone is staring creepily at her and I avert my gaze quickly, embarrassed.

I think about her some more as the businessmen continue to cheat their way around the course. I never realized there were young, attractive members of the golf club. How come all the clients I get are creepy older men?

When we finally arrive back at the club house I catch sight of her again, having a drink on the balcony with her friend, who I now notice is also very attractive. My eyes are drawn to Santana though. She looks so interesting…I wish I could talk to her or be friends with her or something…

"Britt!" Joe snaps me out of my daze, appearing beside me. I try to look as if I wasn't just totally checking out the woman on the balcony above us. "I'm gonna head out, but I'll see you tomorrow in Spanish, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Hasta luego!" I joke. He smiles and rolls his eyes, jogging off to where his bike is chained up in the parking lot.

I chance a glance up at Santana again and see that she's heading inside. I need to go to the locker room before I leave; maybe she's headed there too... Shaking my head at myself, I make my way inside the building.

I've just finished changing my shirt and tossing my old one inside my locker when, sure enough, the door opens and in walks Santana and her blonde friend. I feel weirdly nervous as she passes behind me. It's probably because she's super attractive and super attractive girls always make me nervous. She's not even talking to me. I swallow and stare straight forward into my locker, moving things around for no particular reason.

"Well that _is_ his job you know," the blonde is saying, with a joking tone. They stop and open their own lockers, somewhere behind me and along a bit.

"I know, but I just get so sick of it sometimes," Santana responds and oh my god her voice is just as sexy as the rest of her. I wonder what she's sick of…

I realise that I don't really have a good excuse to be standing motionless in front of my locker because I'm ready to go, so I slowly close it and turn to leave. Oh crap, worst time to turn around because Santana is in the middle of taking off her shirt. My eyes widen as she pulls off her fitted blue polo to reveal a black bra and perfectly bare back. I look away quickly, making awkward eye contact with the middle aged woman sitting on the bench between us putting her socks on. She gives me an odd look, probably because I resemble a startled deer right now. I quickly exit the changing room before I can somehow embarrass myself.

While I'm walking home my thoughts keep reverting back to Santana. There's just something so captivating about her which makes me want to know her…

Later in the evening I'm sitting on my laptop, chatting with Sam on Facebook but not really doing much else. I bring up a new tab and type "Santana Lopez" into Google. I click on the first result, which is a Wikipedia page, and learn that she grew up in LA and moved out here three years ago to pursue a professional career in golf. I look at her date of birth and find that she was born just two years before me. I thought she seemed older.

I don't find much more information except details of her career and some competitions she's won, and I close the tab, internally scolding myself for being such a stalker. But I can't help but hope I run into her again, and maybe get a chance to talk to her. I wonder if she's looking for a caddy…

* * *

**Quick A/N: So I've been thinking of writing this story for a while, inspired by Santana's golf jokes from season two. Just to clarify, I am not a golf fanatic and there may be a few details which are unrealistic/inaccurate but it shouldn't matter too much. Hope you enjoy! **


	2. Chapter 2

**For this chapter just thought I should clarify for anyone who might not know - in golf par is the number of shots you're "supposed" to need to complete a hole and a bogey is when your score is one shot over par. **

* * *

Over the next few weeks I see Santana every now and then around the club house, but I never have a good reason to speak to her. I don't know where my fixation with this woman is coming from but she just fascinates me.

One Saturday I'm lingering by the first tee waiting for my client to show up. I'm pretty early because he's not teeing off for another 15 minutes, but I didn't have anywhere else to be. Suddenly Joe shows up and joins me, looking like he's ready for a round too.

"Hey," I greet him with a small wave. "Who've you got?"

"You'll never guess," he grins, "Santana Lopez herself."

My mouth actually falls open. "What?" I can't believe it!

"Yep. One of the other guys and I were about to go home for the day when the Director found us and asked us if we could do a round. Apparently she usually takes a cart but there aren't any left."

Ugh. I'm so jealous! "When are you going?"

He looks at his watch. "Should be any time now. The director said five minutes when we saw him." Sure enough, when I look behind me, I see her coming round the corner by the parking lot, talking to some older guy. I bite my lip in thought.

"Switch with me?" I blurt out.

He looks surprised. "What? No way, man! Why?"

"Um, it's just…well, the guy I have isn't due for another 15 minutes or something and I have a feeling he'll take a while to play the course. And I was really hoping to get away early today cause I have a shit ton of work to do…" I lie spontaneously.

Joe seems to consider this but still looks unsure. "But she's like…famous, Britt."

"Please?" I practically beg. "I'll…let you have my Spanish homework for the rest of the semester," I offer, knowing Joe's kind of a stoner and hates doing school work.

His eyes widen at this. "For real? Sweet! She's all yours, man."

I grin widely. "Thanks!"

"No, thank _you_."

Just then, Santana arrives beside us and I suddenly feel a rush of nerves as I realize I will be playing 18 holes with her. The other caddy is lingering behind us; I think his name is Rory.

"Hi," she says lightly. "I think two of you are waiting for us?" she questions, looking between us.

"Um, yeah, that's me," I say, stepping forward.

Rory comes to stand beside me. "Me too."

"Cool," she says, pulling her glove onto her right hand. She must be left-handed. "I'm Santana." She holds out her gloved hand and I shake it, nodding like I didn't already know that.

"I'm Brittany."

She smiles at me and I just about die. "My bag is the white one over there," she says, nodding to the side.

"Okay," I say, hurrying to pick it up before Rory gets any ideas.

"This is my agent, Will," she says when I rejoin them, gesturing to the man she's playing with. Rory shakes his hand and goes to take his bag.

Santana goes first, placing her ball at the ladies' tee as is customary, which is several yards in front of the men's. Her drive is perfect, soaring straight down the centre of the fairway. She places a hand to her forehead to shade her eyes from the sun as she watches it land. She seems satisfied with her shot and walks towards me, handing me her driver.

"Nice shot," I offer as I place the cover back on the club and put it back in the bag.

"Thanks." She looks at me for a moment. "First one's always the worst cause everyone in the club house is watching," she says with a smile. I look behind us, and sure enough, a fairly large group has gathered on the balcony to watch them tee off.

Will goes next and his shot is alright, but it doesn't go as far as Santana's.

We start to walk up the first fairway and I'm surprised and a little flustered when Santana walks right beside me. I take a blank scorecard out of my pocket and start to fill in her name.

"It's Lopez, by the way. Santana Lopez." I almost laugh because of course I know her name, but just nod and write it in anyway.

"So have you worked here long? I don't think I've seen you around much before," she asks me. I swallow nervously. She's actually talking to me. Right, Brittany, _don't_ screw this up and embarrass yourself.

"Um, for a few weeks, maybe a month," I reply. "I don't work all that much except around weekends because I go to university during the week."

"Oh, right," she nods. "Well that makes sense then. I don't usually play on weekends because it gets so busy." I nod because it's true; the tee is usually fully booked on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

We pause to watch Will play his next shot before arriving at Santana's ball. She stops to study the shot for a moment.

"Can you give me a seven iron, please?" she asks me. She's so polite. Usually the player just grunts a number at me and holds out his hand. I remove the club and hand it to her, watching her run through a practice swing. I notice now her position is reversed compared to other players and I realize she must have a whole set of special left-handed clubs.

Her shot bounces up and lands on the edge of the green. She nods very slightly to herself and hands me back her club.

"You're really good," I comment as I put it away, then feel stupid for saying so, because of course she's good; she's a professional golfer.

"Thank you," she grins at me and I decide I'm happy I said it. "So what do you study at school?" We set off towards the green.

I smile back, happy that we're actually having a conversation. "Well I'm just a first year and I haven't picked a major yet. So I'm taking lots of classes at the moment. But I'm thinking science of some kind."

She nods, actually looking interested. "That's cool. I used to like math a lot in high school." I smile to myself, imagining Santana as a mathematician, wearing glasses and doing complex equations on a chalk board.

Santana continues to make conversation with me as we play around the course and I gradually relax as I start to realize that's she's just a normal girl, like me. She's actually pretty easy to talk to. While we're playing the eighth hole I learn that she left her whole family behind in LA when she was just nineteen because she got signed by a sporting agency out here in Miami.

"Don't you miss them?" I ask her.

She shrugs indifferently. "I see them every now and then. To be honest I've never really been super close with my family so I don't really mind. And I like it out here a lot."

"Fair enough," I say.

On the thirteenth hole I ask her what else she likes doing besides playing golf and I receive another shrug.

"It might not seem like it but my career actually takes up a lot of my time. I mean, obviously I practice a lot and compete and stuff but I also have to go to all these really boring social events that Will drags me to. Like parties arranged by the agency. And there's sometimes photo-shoots and stuff too." She rolls her eyes a little, with a small smile which lets me know she doesn't _really_ hate it. "But when I'm not doing that stuff I tend to just relax at home. And I have some good friends from the club who I can hang out with."

I nod, falling silent while she takes her putt. Her ball slowly travels the length of the green and loops around the lip of the hole but doesn't go in.

"Oh, fuck it." She says. "Guess that's a bogey, then."

I giggle, surprised to hear her curse. Everyone at the club always pretends to be so proper.

"Language, Santana," Will warns as he passes, but he's smiling. I see Rory suppressing a grin.

"Oh whatever, Will, are you my dad now?" She rolls her eyes playfully as she hands me her club.

By the time we reach the eighteenth hole the sun is starting to go down and it's a good thing we're nearly done because it's getting harder to see. Santana's been playing really well the whole round – far better than anyone I've ever caddied for before – and I'm actually pretty impressed.

"So what made you want to be a caddy?" she asks me as we make our way up the fairway. "You don't strike me as a golf enthusiast."

I laugh a little because she's right. I always thought golf was a boring, snobby sport for old people. I guess I still did until today.

"Well, once I got settled in at university I had to find some kind of job to help pay for all those textbooks." She smiles. "And this was just the first one I applied for," I say with a shrug.

"I see. And how do you like it so far?"

"It's pretty good," I say. "It's not exactly difficult, and I guess it's good exercise too."

She nods in agreement as I hand her a chipper. "It's been nice walking the course for a change instead of sitting on my ass in a cart. Maybe I'll start using a caddy more often." She smiles at me before taking her shot and I feel a small surge of excitement at the implication of her words.

Santana putts for par on the last hole and after picking up her ball she takes off her glove and shakes my hand again, thanking me for carrying her bag. I try to ignore how pathetically excited I get about touching her bare skin. She hesitates for a second.

"Do you want to come and have a drink in the club house?" she asks.

My hearts leaps in my chest for a second. "Um, sure!" I say, trying not to sound _too_ eager. "Although, I'm not sure if I'm allowed to hang out in the bar…I mean, technically I'm not a member…"

She waves a hand dismissively. "It's fine," she says with a smile. "You're totally allowed." I think I'll trust her judgement.

Will goes off somewhere with Santana's bag and I head to the changing room with her. I wonder if he's going to be joining us for a drink or if it will just be me and her. I suddenly imagine the two of us sitting together at the bar having drinks. What if she's asking me like, _romantically_? I'm dating Sam! Wait… no, Brittany, that's totally ridiculous. She's obviously straight and people go for drinks after golf all the time. Just calm down.

I throw Santana a nervous smile, hoping that miniature freak out didn't show on my face.

Once we reach the locker room we change out of our golf shoes and then head up to the bar. Santana shakes her hair out of its tight ponytail and I try not to notice how hot she looks doing it. We find some seats out on the balcony and Santana tells me to wait while she goes in for drinks.

"What are you having?" she asks me.

"Oh um…I'll just have some orange juice." She gives me a curious look.

"You don't want anything stronger?" she says with some amusement. I blush, feeling like a little kid.

"No, thanks…I mean, I'm not old enough yet."

"Right," she nods, still smirking a little. "Of course."

She disappears inside to go to the bar and I spy the bartender serve her almost as soon as he sees her. I look around me as I wait. I've only ever been up here once or twice, and never as a customer. It's still warm out and now that it's getting dark they've turned on the white fairy lights that run around the edge of the balcony, casting a dim glow over all the tables. It's actually really nice up here. I don't see any sign of Santana's agent, Will. I guess he went home?

"Here you are," Santana returns and places my drink on the table in front of me. She has a beer for herself.

"You know I could have just ordered you a real drink, it's not like they would have carded you," she jokes. I laugh.

"It's okay…I wouldn't want to risk it, seeing as I work here."

She nods. "Fair enough."

"I'll be twenty-one real soon though," I say, remembering that my birthday is coming up next month.

"Yeah?" She looks at me over the top of her beer. "Well I guess we'll just have to do this again when you are." She gives me a small grin and my heart leaps in my chest at the thought of hanging out with her more.

"So I take it you didn't go straight to college if you're only in first year then?" she asks.

I shake my head as I sip my juice through the straw. "No, I waited a couple years so I could save up some money first. I used to work as a waitress in a café in my hometown." She smiles at that.

She asks me more about where I grew up and what kind of things I like doing in my free time and we make easy conversation. She really seems to show an interest in me and I feel kind of flattered.

At one point the blonde haired girl who I saw Santana with before comes up to our table to greet her and she introduces us.

"Oh, hey, Quinn. This is Brittany, she was my faithful caddy today," she says with a grin.

"Nice to meet you," Quinn reaches forward to shake my hand and smiles warmly at me. I echo the sentiment and fall silent while the two of them exchange conversation that doesn't involve me, about people I don't know. She's very well spoken and I notice how carefully she holds herself, as if absolutely determined to be as delicate and ladylike as possible.

Eventually Quinn wanders back to her table where she sits with a middle aged couple who I assume are her parents. Santana looks behind her, watching her go. Once she's out of earshot she turns back to me. "Sorry about that." I wave my hand to say it doesn't matter. "That's Quinn Fabray. Her dad is super rich and is buddies with the director. She's kind of a snob but she's alright to hang out with," she says with an almost mischievous look on her face. I grin. "She's one of the only people here who's actually under forty, so…" she trails off. I wonder if she ever gets lonely without many people her own age to hang out with.

"Do you ever get lonely without many people your own age to hang out with?" Oops. Guess I wondered that out loud.

She seems surprised by my question and hesitates for a second before shrugging. "I'm not sure. I've never really thought about it before." She pauses. "I mean, it's not like I have no friends or anything," she says with a small smile.

"Sorry," I say quickly, realizing how my question must have sounded and feeling flustered. "I just mean, it must suck having to hang around with old people all the time."

She laughs out loud. "I guess it does, sometimes. There aren't many people to party with round here. Even Quinn's kind of a wet blanket. My high school friends were a lot wilder." I nod in understanding. I kind of want to blurt out that she should come hang out with me and my friends all the time instead but I don't want to sound crazy and weird her out. I'm not sure that would be very appropriate.

We talk some more before I realize that it's coming up to ten o'clock and my roommates are probably wondering where the hell I am. It's fully dark now and we finished our drinks a while ago. I really don't want to leave though. I waited so long just to talk to her and I'm worried I'll never get another chance.

A few minutes later though, she saves me from my dilemma, looking at her watch and announcing that she should probably get going. I agree and stand up with her.

"I'm gonna go say goodbye to Quinn before I go, but I guess I'll…see you around?" she says, almost hesitantly. I smile and nod, probably looking ridiculously enthusiastic while doing so.

"Yeah, bye! Thanks for the drink and everything."

"No problem," she smiles. "Thanks for carrying my clubs! See you later."

There's a beat in which I wonder if I should hug her goodbye or shake her hand or something, but she doesn't make any move and neither do I, so I just turn awkwardly and walk away, heading through the bar and downstairs.

As soon as I'm alone with my thoughts I'm inwardly flailing. I can't believe I just spent the whole afternoon with Santana Lopez. And I thought today was just going to be another boring day spent carrying some old guy's bag.

When I get to my locker I take out my phone and see I have several texts waiting for me. We're not allowed to take cell phones onto the course with us so I haven't checked it since earlier this afternoon. I open the first one from Mercedes.

"_Hey Britt, you still working? We're doing dinner at home, let me know if you'll be joining." _

Oops. I probably should have texted her when I finished my round but I was too busy freaking out about Santana talking to me. She sent me another about an hour ago.

"_Leftovers in the fridge :)"_

I smile, glad I don't have to feel guilty about missing dinner and also happy that there's food waiting for me at home; I'm starving. I open a text from Joe.

"_So you were serious about the spanish right" _

I laugh to myself before checking my last message from Sam.

"_Hey Britt, we still on for breakfast tomorrow?" _

Crap, I totally forgot about that. Sam wants to go to some space themed diner we passed by the other day. He got really excited about it because the tables look like planets in the solar system. I groan slightly at the thought of getting up so early on a Sunday but text him back.

"_Sure, I'll see you at 9 :)"_

* * *

"So how was work yesterday?" Sam asks me as we take our seats at Jupiter. "You must have finished up pretty late."

"Oh yeah, well my client bought me a drink after so I ended up staying on for a bit."

Sam looks a little creeped out. "What, the old guy? Isn't that a bit…inappropriate?"

"No, no, no," I say, waving my hand. "I ended up switching with Joe and I got to caddy for Santana Lopez. She's like, our age and she plays pro. She's basically like, a celebrity at the club. It was super awesome."

Sam nods slowly. "Oh yeah, I've heard of her actually. I think she's pretty good."

"She's _really_ good," I gush. I mean, she is compared to my usual clients. I think Sam meant compared to other professional golfers. He actually follows sports and watches golf on TV and stuff.

Sam smiles. "So what's she like? You must have got on pretty well if you went for drinks after."

"Oh she's super nice. And not stuck up at all, like most people at the club." I don't mention that she is also super hot and I'm totally attracted to her. I don't think Sam would feel too good about us having drinks if I did. "I had a lot of fun actually. It was nice working with someone who actually talks to me for a change."

"Nice," he says. "Think you'll caddy for her again?"

I think of the comment Santana made near the end of the round about wanting to have a caddy more often and smile to myself.

"I hope so."


	3. Chapter 3

The following Wednesday I get an email from the director in the morning, asking if I'm available to come and work in the evening. I'm a little puzzled because I usually don't have to work before Thursday but I reply saying that I can. I can always use the extra cash and I don't have any studying to do tonight anyway.

I show up around 4 and once I'm changed I make my way to the notice board in the foyer which tells me who I'm caddying for. I see my name written in for the four fifteen slot and I'm delighted to see the player's name as Santana Lopez.

Excited to spend more time with her, I make my way out to the tee, and find her already waiting, doing some practice swings with a driver.

"Hey!" she calls out as I approach.

"Hi!" I beam at her. "Are you playing alone today?"

She nods. "Thought I could use some company though, so I requested you," she says almost shyly, not meeting my eyes. I can barely contain my grin.

"Awesome. Well...if it's just you, shall we just go now? The tee is free."

"Sure," she smiles and leans down to tee up a she takes her shot I pull out a scorecard and start filling it in, feeling extremely glad to be writing in "Santana Lopez" at the top once more.

"So…how was the rest of your weekend?" I ask lamely as we head up the fareway.

"Um. It was okay," she responds, looking straight ahead as she strides up the slight incline. "On Sunday I went to the gym in the morning but I didn't really do anything else." She gives a small shrug. "What about you?"

"Oh…I didn't do much either." I don't want to talk about the space restaurant because she'll think I'm a huge nerd. "Just some studying and stuff. Then my roommates and I went out for dinner on Monday." I quickly add the last part to make myself sound more interesting. I don't want her to think I stay at home and do work all the time.

"Cool. Can I have an eight iron please?" I extract the club from the bag on my back and fall silent while she lines up her shot.

"I hope I'm not keeping you from any important school work," she says after hitting the ball, smirking slightly.

I take the club from her and laugh. "Not at all. I generally don't have too much to do anyway because it's my first year. I'm sure it'll be worse next year."

While she's setting up her ball to play the second hole I take a moment to admire her while she won't notice. She's dressed in a black polo today, and I briefly wonder how many different colors she must own. Her pants are fitted and a light cream color and her hair is tied back in a high pony tail like it was the other day. God, she is so sexy. I sigh and avert my gaze from her ass when she turns around.

"Nice shot," I take her club and smile like I wasn't just totally checking her out.

We play the course quite slowly, taking our time and chatting along the way. Santana jokes with me and tells me funny stories about people from the club. I don't think I'll be able to look at the director in the same way again, after she tells me about the time he gave a speech totally hammered then tried to play golf and crashed his cart into a bunker on the third hole.

"So what made you get into playing golf? I guess you must have started pretty young." I ask her with interest as we set off from the eighth tee.

"Oh yeah," she nods, "I guess I was probably about eight or something." I smile and think that an eight year old Santana with a visor and golf bag must have been adorable. "It's funny; I never would have started if it weren't for my dad. He used to play a round every weekend with his buddies while my mom would look after me at home. Then one time she had to go out of town for the weekend and my dad forgot to get me a sitter," she rolls her eyes and seems to smile at the memory. "So he ended up having to take me with him. I just sat in the cart the whole time and watched them play. After the round was over I asked my dad if I could have a turn so he took me to the practice bays." I smile.

"That's cute."

She laughs. "Well obviously I totally sucked. I was using his giant club and he had to stand behind me and help me hold it. But I wanted to be as good as him and his friends so I asked if I could get lessons." She pauses to take a shot.

"So I did," she continues as I put her club away. "And I got little baby clubs that were like, this big," she holds her hands out about 3 feet apart and I grin. "Then eventually once I was old enough I joined the same club as my dad and started playing in juniors' competitions and stuff. I won a lot but I think I was helped by the fact that there were hardly any girls to compete against," she laughs.

"Did many of your high school friends play?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "None of them did. Well, there was a couple of guys from my school in the club once I got older but they didn't really want to play with a girl," she rolls her eyes. "It was just kind of my 'thing' that I did," she says with amusement. "My friends would all get pissed when I had to leave the party early cause I had a competition in the morning," I laugh. I think my friends would be the same.

"Do you miss it back home?"

"Sometimes," she admits. "It kind of sucked having to leave all my friends and stuff when I did, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. I occasionally go back to visit or have a competition in the area. They really know how to have a good time so it's great to go back and party with them when I get a chance."

I smile. "That sounds great. I'd love to go to LA one day – I've always wanted to," I say wistfully.

Santana falls silent for a few seconds and looks at me. "Pitching wedge, please," she eventually says. I hand her the club and she walks a few paces away to her ball. She pauses for a second before confidently chipping it onto the green towards the hole.

"We-ell," she says slowly as she walks back to me. "I know a way that could happen." I raise my eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Um. Well," she says suddenly shy. "I was wondering if maybe…well, basically most pros usually have a personal caddy who goes with them to all their competitions and stuff. I don't have one so I usually just have some random person hired by the club." My heart starts beating faster. Oh my god, is she asking me to be her personal caddy? "You could be mine maybe, if you like." My eyes widen.

"For real? Oh my god," I say as she nods in confirmation. I grin as I imagine it. I would get to play with her _all_ the time. And go to competitions all over the place. Plus, no more creepy old guys!

She holds up her gloved hand. "Before you answer," she says quickly, "take a few days to think about it." I give her a questioning look. I'm totally ready to say yes right now. "It will probably be more work than what you usually get and you might have to be willing to be away often at weekends, especially in summer." She's grinning because I think she knows that I want to do it. "I mean," she shrugs, "You wouldn't absolutely _have_ to be at every competition, but in general, it'll take up quite a lot of your time." I don't care; I'll give her all the time she wants. "So just think about it okay?"

I nod and smile. "I will. Thanks." She gives another shrug and steps up to putt.

We're finishing up the seventeenth hole and the sun is starting to set, just like the last time I was caddying for Santana.

"I am so glad we're nearly done cause I am _starving_," she remarks as she tees up for the last hole. "Sometimes I think eighteen holes just seems like _way_ too much, you know?" I giggle because I agree. "I mean, it takes at _least_ three hours to play a round. Even four or five if you're a shitty golfer."

I laugh. "Yeah, I know. I'm hungry too. My roommate is making us all dinner tonight and her food is super awesome so I can't wait."

"Four iron, please. What are they like? Your roommates."

"Oh they're really great," I answer after she plays her shot. "I didn't know them before I moved in at the start of the year but now they're like, my best friends."

"Yeah? How'd you find the place?" She asks, sticking her hands in her pockets and walking alongside me.

"Oh, well I had met Tina before a couple of times because she's a friend of Sam's," I explain. "My boyfriend, Sam, moved out here a couple of years before me so we met when I visited a few times. Turned out she and her two roommates were looking for someone to take the fourth bedroom and I didn't want to live on campus."

"Oh, right." She pauses. "Um, yeah, I hear it's gross there," she mutters. She walks over to where I've set her bag down by the green and pulls out her putter.

"Hey, that's my job," I say jokingly, and she laughs softly.

"Oh, sorry. Habit, I guess," she says with a smile.

She finishes off the hole and I write in her last score. She did well but not as good as last time.

"Not my best," she says as I hand her the score card. "But, whatever. I've been feeling distracted today anyway."

She walks over to her bag and hoists it onto her own back. It looks huge on her tiny frame as she walks towards me.

"Well, thanks for the round, Britt. I'll see you around. Enjoy your dinner!" she says with a grin as she tugs off her glove and holds out her hand.

I roll my eyes at the formality but shake her hand and smile at her. "No problem. See you, Santana!"

She walks off towards the parking lot, presumably to put her clubs in her car. I sigh and walk towards the locker room, feeling that slight depression you get when you've just parted ways with somebody before you wanted to.

* * *

Later on, at dinner, I tell the others about the offer Santana made me while we were playing.

"So she asked me if I want to be her personal caddy. Like, _all _the time!" I say, before stuffing more of Mercedes' home made mac 'n' cheese into my mouth.

"For real?" Mercedes gives me a surprised look.

"Wow, Britt!" Tina exclaims. "That seems like a big deal."

"I think it is," I say, after pausing for a moment to swallow. "She told me to think about it for a few days."

"And what are you thinking about it?" Sugar asks me from the other side of the table. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah, I think I do," I answer. "It's just that she said I'd probably have to work a lot more than I am right now, and I'd have to go away with her a lot."

Mercedes nods in understanding. "I can't believe she even asked you, considering you met, what, on Saturday? It sounds like a big commitment."

I nod in agreement. She's right; it does seem crazy that Santana asked to me to fill this huge role for her after like, 5 days of knowing me.

"She must like you a lot," Sugar remarks and I try to hide my smile. I must admit the prospect of hanging out with Santana all the time is very appealing. Not to mention all the awesome trips I would get to go on.

Later on, as I'm going to bed, Sam texts me goodnight like he always does. I reply and then toss my phone to the side with a sigh. I haven't told him about what Santana asked me. If I'm honest, it's not the extra time commitment which is making me hesitate to take the job. I've been drawn to Santana since the moment I saw her and I'm not stupid; I know what this infatuation is. I'd be lying if I said I'm not attracted to her and now that I know her personally, the feeling has only intensified. It's like there are two parts of me. The main part which knows that nothing can or will happen because I'm dating Sam and we'll be fine just being friends. But then there's some tiny part of me which kind of wants…

No. I shake my head as if it will rid my mind of these dumb thoughts. God, what am I thinking, Santana probably has a boyfriend of her own. She doesn't exactly strike me as a rampant lesbian. Well, I guess people say the same thing about me and she _is_ a professional golfer…but no. Sam.

I sigh again and try to think about something else. I definitely have a problem with over thinking things…


	4. Chapter 4

I'm working again on Saturday but this time my client is some 40 year old woman with a bleach blonde perm who can't seem to hit the ball more than twenty yards at a time. She spends more time gossiping to her friend than paying attention to the game and even though we set off at two this afternoon it's almost seven by the time we get around the course. As they play the last green I exchange a look with Joe, who's carrying the other bag and I can tell he's just as eager to be finished as I am.

"Finally!" I exclaim to him after we're done and the women are out of earshot.

He laughs. "I thought it would never end. My one went round in a hundred and thirty three," he says, pulling a face.

I grin. "She'll be going pro in no time."

"Hey, speaking of pro," he nudges me with his elbow and gestures towards the other side of the first tee, where the practice bays are. I'm excited to see Santana standing alone with her back to us, whacking a ball into the netting in front of her.

"Oh, cool," I say, feeling myself grin widely. I pause for a few seconds. "I'm gonna go speak to her," I decide.

"Alright," says Joe, "I'm gonna head home; I've been waiting all day to go blaze. See you later, Britt."

I chuckle. "Bye, Joe." He walks off towards the club house and I hesitate before dawdling my way towards Santana, trying to think of what to say. I haven't seen her since Wednesday and I've been thinking about the offer she made me. Or at least, pretending to think about it because let's be real; there was no way I was ever going turn it down.

Screw it, I think. I'll just tell her now.

"Hi," I say lamely as I walk up behind her.

She looks around in surprise, straightening up from getting ready to swing. "Oh, hey Brittany," she smiles. "Be careful sneaking up behind me like that, I might have hit you!"

"Oh," I say, feeling silly. "Sorry, I should have realized."

"It's okay," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. "I guess I'm just paranoid about that cause it happened to me when I was a kid," she says.

"Really? Were you okay?" I ask, wide eyed.

She waves her hand dismissively. "Oh yeah, I was fine. I must have been about nine. During my lesson I wanted to ask my instructor a question so I stupidly walked up behind him at the driving range and got a three iron to the head." She pushes back her hair a little and I see a small white scar near her temple. "No permanent damage though," she adds with a small smile. I make a mental note to announce my presence loudly any time I walk near her while she's playing. "So what's up?" She leans back a little on her club.

"Oh. Well I saw you and just thought I'd come say hi," I say. I pause and then continue nervously, "Also I wanted to let you know that I thought about what you asked me the other day, about being your caddy and I think I wanna do it." I look at my shoes, suddenly worried that she's changed her mind about the whole thing.

"Oh," she says. She sounds surprised. "Right. Well, that's great."

"I mean, if the offer still stands," I say quickly.

She smiles. "Of course it does! That's really cool." She nods a little as if in approval. "I think this'll be awesome."

I grin. "Okay. Great! So like…what happens next?" I ask.

She laughs and shrugs slightly. "Um, I guess I'll tell Will and he will sort out all the official stuff. I think it's pretty simple though. I'll just let you know when I wanna practice and we can sort out times that work for both of us." I feel a thrill at the prospect. "Oh and I'll give you a schedule for my competitions," she adds.

"Great," I say. I hesitate, before adding, "And thanks; I'm really glad you asked me."

She looks down at the ground, almost bashfully. "Oh, it's okay. It's about time I found someone. I'm glad it can be you and not some creepy older guy who tries to hit on me like the caddies Will usually finds for me," she says, rolling her eyes.

I laugh. "Okay then." I pause, not wanting to walk away yet but unsure of what to say.

"So, were you playing today?" I eventually ask, sticking my hands in my pockets to stop myself from fidgeting.

"Not today." She reaches out with her foot and guides a ball into position in the middle of her mat as she answers me. "I was just bored and came down here to practice my chipping and get some dinner." She focuses on the ball before gently swinging back and hitting it forward into the net which surrounds the bay.

"You know," she says with a small smirk as she turns to get another ball, "part of the caddy's job is to give tips and advice to the player about how they should play their shots."

I raise my eyebrows. "Really?" I'm pretty sure I don't know how to do that. I think she knows that though.

"Yup. You'll have to start critiquing me," she jokes.

I grin. "Guess I'll start paying more attention to how you play then."

She chuckles softly. "Have you ever played?" she asks me curiously, twirling her club slightly in her left hand.

I shake my head. "Never. I'm pretty sure it's not my calling."

She grins and holds out her club. "You wanna try? You never know, you might have an undiscovered talent."

I laugh and hesitate for a moment. I want to try but Santana's golf clubs probably cost a whole lot of money and I would die of embarrassment if I somehow managed to damage one. "Go on," says with a crooked smile.

"Okay," I finally agree, taking it from her. "I'm right handed but seeing as I've never played in my life I think I'll be awful either way." She laughs and steps in front of me, bending down briefly to place a ball on the rubber tee sticking through the mat. I move into position and place the head of the club behind the ball. I glance once more at Santana's face and she nods in confirmation, her arms folded and a slight smirk on her face.

I take a deep breath before bringing the club back and then swinging it through as fast as I can. There's a horrible clunking noise as the metal connects with the ball and I feel the vibration jar my hands through the rubber grip. I watch as the ball bounces off the tee and rolls all of three years away along the ground.

I flush with embarrassment and look up to see Santana trying not to laugh without much success. "Nice shot," she comments.

"Hey! It's hard, okay," I say, grinning despite myself.

"Okay, okay," she says once she's collected herself, stepping forward. "Obviously it was terrible but that's just cause you were doing about a million things wrong." She places another ball on the tee. "Here, set up your shot again."

I obediently place the club back into position and get ready to take another swing. "Okay, stop," she says. "First of all your feet are all over the place," she says with a small laugh. I stand up straight as she crouches down in front of me. "Here, put them like this," she reaches forward and guides the toe of my right shoe so that it's pointing in front of me and just a little closer to the nets than the ball. She then moves my other foot further left and I flush as her fingers curl around my ankle. "Now, don't move them," she commands, before standing.

"Alright," I say, holding my feet rigid.

"So now, your grip," she says. I look down at my hands where I'm clutching the top of the club. "Let go first." She holds the metal part of the shaft between her fingers and I remove my hands. "Place your right hand on it first, with your thumb straight and pointing towards me."

"Um…" I hesitate before gripping the club and raising my thumb towards her.

She giggles, "Not like that. Here," she steps around me and stands to my right, moving close to me. My heart leaps from her proximity. She reaches down and touches my hand and I bit my lip. She's focused on adjusting my grip and doesn't seem to notice my reaction. She gently moves my hand further around the club and presses my thumb down.

"Okay, now, your left hand will kind of sit on top of your thumb." She leans closer so she can reach across me and grab my left hand, moving it carefully into the correct position. "Kind of. Just move it down a bit," she mumbles, quietly now that she's so close. I think my heart rate is going through the roof at the moment. "Okay, that's good." I feel like she keeps her hand resting on mine for a couple of seconds more before removing it and leaning back. That's probably my imagination going crazy though.

She moves to stand behind me and I stay facing forward, not wanting to mess up my footing. Also I feel like I'm blushing and I don't want her to notice.

"Okay now just lean forward a bit." My breath catches as I feel her hand pushing softly on my lower back and I swallow hard. Is she doing this on purpose? I lean down a little according to her instruction and she moves to stand in front of me again.

"Alright," she says with a smile, seeming pleased with her manipulation of my stance. "So make sure you keep your eye on the ball the whole time. Don't look at the net and don't look back at your swing. Always look at the ball."

I nod in understanding. "Always look at the ball," I repeat.

"Yep. And finally, the most important thing is to take your time. Your first shot sucked because you were trying to hit it really hard. Just go slow and you're more likely to make good contact."

I nod. "Okay. Anything else?" She shakes her head and I look intently at the ball. I swing more slowly this time and the club makes a much nicer sound when I hit the ball. It actually gets off the ground this time and hits the net in front of me. It's not as good as the kind of shot Santana hits but it's still a hell of a lot better than my first attempt.

"Way-y better," Santana remarks, grinning at me.

"That actually looked like a real shot!" I exclaim and she laughs. "You should be a golf teacher, Santana."

She shrugs a little. "Maybe I will be eventually. Sometimes pros become instructors after they stop competing."

"Well obviously you're good at it," I say, swinging the club a little as if taking a shot.

"Or you're just good at learning. You want to go again?" she asks. She must sense my enthusiasm.

"Yeah!" I line up my body they way she showed me before while she bends down to tee up the ball again.

I think I must be slightly over excited from my last shot because this time when I try to hit the ball I just completely miss and I hear a swoosh of air as the club passes clean over the ball. I look down in confusion.

"You lifted your head!" Santana accuses.

"I did not!" I argue, but I'm smiling. Maybe I forgot about that part.

"You totally did, I saw it," she laughs. "You were looking right at the nets when you swung through and you lifted your whole body and that's why you missed." She folds her arms with a smirk. "That's called a fresh air shot."

I laugh. "Alright, alright I lifted my head. But let's just call that a practice swing," I say, getting ready to try again.

"Of course it was," she says, giving me a smile which makes my heart clench. I grin back like an idiot and then look down, trying to focus.

"Relax your shoulders. They're all tensed up. And lean down more." She pauses. "You're taller than me so the club is probably a little short for you."

"Okay," I say, hunching over.

"Remember, take your time and keep your eye on the ball," she reminds me. I try again and this time I make contact. This shot might even be better than the other one.

"Yes!" I say, fist pumping.

She laughs. "Nice. You'll be a pro before you know it." She walks over to her bag a few yards away. "You want to try a driver?" she asks, laying a hand on one.

"Um, maybe," I say. That's a bit scarier than a pitching wedge. "Sure."

She pulls off the club cover and walks towards me. "For real though, I can teach you how to play if you want. I bet I can get Will to hook you up with some clubs," she says, not meeting my eyes. I think she does that when she's nervous about asking me something. "You know, ones that face the right way," she jokes.

I smile. "That would be really cool." I take the driver from her. This club is a lot longer so I don't have to hunch over as much when I get into position.

Seemingly satisfied by my response, she steps forward and starts manipulating my body again…once more sending my brain into overdrive.

* * *

"I have to admit, it is kind of hard to keep your eye on the ball when you're having trouble seeing it," Santana says, squinting a little.

It's almost fully dark now and Santana and I are still hanging out at the practice bays. I gave up trying to play golf about an hour ago and now I'm just watching her practice.

I laugh from the ground, where I'm sitting cross legged a few yards away. I don't want to leave but unfortunately it's getting pretty impractical for us to stay here. "Yeah…maybe we should admit defeat and head back."

She swings back and whacks the ball in front of her into the nets with a huge amount of force. It impresses me every single time just how much power she gets behind her shots when she uses her driver. You wouldn't think such a small person was capable of it.

"Agreed," she says after lowering her club. She starts gathering the balls that litter the front of the bay and I get up to help her. "Thanks," she says once we're all done. "Are you heading to the changing rooms?"

"Yeah, I am," I respond. "I still need to get my phone and stuff from my locker."

"Sweet," she says as she picks up her bag and we start to head to the club house. "So, I totally forgot to mention this but there's a competition next weekend that I'm playing in."

"Oh. Cool," I say, trying to remember if I have plans or not.

She glances at me. "I realize it's really short notice so obviously you don't have to come if you don't want to or can't. I just thought I'd ask just in case because the course is in town and I guess you're my caddy now," she says quickly as we enter the building.

I smile to myself. "Um. No, it's fine," I say. "I think that'll be okay. Like, I don't have plans or anything so…" I trail off.

"Cool," she says brightly. "I'll let Will know. And it's only the Saturday, by the way." She shrugs. "It's just a small thing, really."

"Alright," I say. We reach the locker room and I dig out my key from my pocket. "So what do I have to do? Apart from carry your bag, obviously," I ask, suddenly worried that I'll have a ton of new responsibilities.

She chuckles softly from behind me as she opens her own locker. "Um. I don't really know. Probably not much." I grab my street shoes and sit down to change into them. "Nothing you won't be able to do though," she says with a smile when she closes her locker and turns to me. "And I'll make sure Will explains anything I don't know about."

"Okay then," I say, standing and grabbing my backpack before closing my locker. She seems like she's ready to go so I head for the door.

"Did you drive here?" she asks me as she follows behind me.

"No. I don't even have a car," I laugh. "I just walk to work. I don't live too far away."

"Oh right," she says, coming to walk beside me. "Well, my car's in the parking lot so I can give you a ride home if you like."

"Oh. Are you sure?" I ask. I hope she's asking because she wants to and not because she feels obligated to offer. "It's really not that far."

She smiles and rolls her eyes. "Of course, Brittany. Just come on."

We walk out of the club house and she heads towards a car parked by itself on the far side of the parking lot.

"Oh my god," I say as we stop in front of it. "You have a _really_ nice car, Santana." It's a convertible sports car, the kind with only two seats, and it's jet black in color. I admire the subtle curve of the body and the silver rims and swallow hard. I'm kind of a sucker for nice cars and I don't think this is helping with the not-being-attracted-to-Santana thing.

"Oh," she laughs as she pops the trunk. "Thanks, I guess. When I won my first big tournament I decided to splash out with the prize money and buy something extravagant." She grins at me as she walks around to the driver's side and opens the door. "You gonna get in?"

I nod enthusiastically and open my door. The little light inside comes on and shows off the dark red and black leather interior. "Holy shit," I mumble. I see her smirk slightly out of the corner of my eye as I duck to climb into the car.

She turns on the ignition and we're thrown into darkness for a second before the dashboard lights come on, giving her face a slight orange glow. The music player automatically comes on, playing music softly from the speakers behind us. Oh my god, this is so sexy. I briefly wonder what it would be like if Sam had a car like this then cringe. I don't think he could really pull it off.

Santana places her right hand on the back of my seat, just behind my head as she reverses, twisting to look through the back window. I'm not expecting it and my breath catches slightly from her sudden closeness.

I give Santana directions to my apartment as we travel down the driveway away from the parking lot.

"You're kind of near me, actually," she says, making we wonder exactly how near. I bet she has a huge expensive apartment as well.

"Do you live by yourself?" I find myself asking her.

"Yeah, I do," she responds. "I think I like it that way though," she says with a smile. "The privacy is nice."

I laugh. "Yeah. It must be nice not having to wait for three other people to shower before you in the morning."

"Definitely."

It's only a five minute drive to my place and soon we're pulling up outside my building. Suddenly I feel awkward about saying goodbye, like I always do.

"Well, thanks for the ride." I say, tapping my hands on my knees and turning to her.

"No problem." She smiles softly back at me making my stomach knot and twist. Fuck. I just wanna jump on her. "I can take you home any time, you know. It's silly for you to walk when I can just drive you."

I'm hardly listening at this point so I just nod politely. I turn to open my door.

"Oh wait, Brittany. Can I get your phone number?" I look round in surprise. "So I can call you to sort out all the details for this weekend and stuff." Right. Of course.

"Oh, yeah, sure." I pull my phone out my pocket even though I know my number off by heart.

"Here, just type it in," she hands me her phone. I tap in my number, triple checking that I get the digits right and hand the phone back. "Cool," she smiles. "I'll send you a text so you have mine."

"Sweet." I can't think of anything else to say so I open my door and clamber out of the car. "I guess I'll see you on Saturday?" I say uncertainly.

"Yeah, for sure. I'll probably see you before then at the club though."

"Alright." I stand for a moment holding the door open and shuffling my feet. "Well, bye then!" I wave at her lamely.

"See you later, Brittany." She smiles at me once more before I close the door and walk to the building entrance. It always feels strangely anti-climactic when I say goodbye to her. Like there's some weird tension between us. But that's probably just all in my head because I'm the one fantasizing about making out with her.

I resist the urge to look back at her before entering my building and closing the door behind me. As I'm heading up the stairs my phone buzzes, still in my hand. Knowing it's Santana, I excitedly open the text.

_Santana :) _

It's just about the simplest thing she could have sent me but it's still got me grinning like a maniac. Shit. I really need to snap out of this.

I bite my lip in worry as I go into my apartment and head for my room. After tonight I definitely can't deny my attraction to her. I remember the way she gently touched me to move me into position and just the thought of it makes me feel warm. And she was being so sweet tonight, teaching me how to play and then taking me home. Maybe Santana is just one of those people who is really good at making you feel special.

I collapse backwards on my bed and stare blankly at the ceiling. Briefly I wonder if I should break up with Sam but the thought vanishes quickly with a sharp pang of anxiety. That would be crazy. There's nothing to suggest Santana is even into me, plus there is nothing wrong with me and Sam's relationship. I can't break up with him after two years just because of a crush.

I roll my eyes at myself and reach over to grab my phone. I find my conversation with Sam and send off a text asking about his day. Soon his response has me laughing and feeling reasonably confident that everything is going to be fine.

The same night, Santana is in my dream. It's not surprising considering how much I've been thinking about her. The whole thing is a bit vague but there's something about us sitting in her car and playing a video game on a giant TV screen on the dashboard which definitely wasn't there before. I keep hoping she'll put her arm around me but instead the dream morphs into me eating mac n cheese at Mercedes' parents' house with the director of golf. Which is pretty weird. I wake up feeling delirious and confused at quarter to four before rolling over to go back to sleep, trying and failing to keep a certain golfer off my mind.


End file.
